And All That You Love will Be Carried Away
by Darth Breezy
Summary: As stated in the A/N, a small piece between the end of Vega and it's epilogue. For reasons he can't even explain to himself, Luke decides to search for 'Nails' after their parting, but does he truly find what he is looking for? Now complete - It's been a long time since I've written so kindly leave a word or two if you've enjoyed it.
1. Chapter 1

Usual disclaimers. I don't own Star Wars, or it's official characters, and the OC's are of my own creation. Of course, feedback would be welcome. More to come but I hope by posting it, I'll be compelled to put the rest of the story to keyboard.

**"And All That You Love Will Be Carried Away…"**

_(A/N – the title is from the short story by Stephen King, in the collection "Everything's Eventual" – it's lovely and evocative, and really set the fire to this piece. It takes place after the events of "Vega", and before it's epilogue…)_

"_You should go to her then, Luke," Scion sighed, nestling closer to him. "Maybe put the ghost to rest for once and for all…"_

_Luke had only grunted, and extracted himself from her embrace, and knowing him, and loving him as she did, she would leave him to brood, but unusually, this time he actually began to speak._

"_You know I can't, Sci…" he murmured softly, gently fingering the Corellian Dawn Flower that blossomed by the window side. "Corellia has been under virtual lock down since…" Here he trailed off, his mood darkening. "In any case, that's all in the past now…"_

"_But Luke," Scion pressed. "The dreams…?"_

"_Nothing but, Sci!" he snapped suddenly. "And even if she is in trouble, she has her family…" and now softly, almost as an after thought. "She doesn't need me…"_

* * *

"Luke, are you all right?" It was Leia's soft voice that brought him out of his reverie. "You've been so… restless since you've come home."

Luke offered his sister a wan smile. "_Home_," he echoed softly, and for a brief moment he looked far older than his years. "No, just gathering…"

Leia cocked an inquisitive eyebrow as she brushed away an errant strand of hair from his eyes. The familiar gesture made the smile genuine. "All right, you found me out," he admitted. "Thinking about the past, I guess."

The Princess's lips thinned in concern. "Sci? Or _her_…?"

"Yeah,"

Wordlessly, Leia cupped his chin, brown eyes staring intensely into blue. _You should have let it go a long time ago… _

He sighed. "It's different, this time Leia," he sighed. "There's physical pain, yes… but something… worse…"

Leia nodded, allowing him to continue in his own time as she knew he would. After 'Nails' Canaille had left him, suddenly and with little explanation, he had become a changed man. He had nearly forsaken his Jedi ways, and thrown himself wholeheartedly into the Rebellion, and subsequent reconstruction – at least for a little while – falling in love with a young fellow Rebel (perhaps too soon for her taste, but she had prudently held her tongue) Scion, and had spent nearly half a year taking on suicide missions for the Republic, with Scion at his side. Once, during that brief time, he had confessed that sometimes, just sometimes, he still thought he could feel her presence, and that something had been terribly _wrong, _but he still could not bring himself to intercede on her self imposed exile from his life.

When his young lover had been killed by an Imperial ambush, he had blasted off in the entirely opposite direction, and had fully re-embraced his Jedi ways, disappearing sometimes for many months, and then just as suddenly, all be it ever so briefly, reappear at her figurative doorstep.

"I have to find her, Leia," he said at last. "It's like a dream… a fog surrounding her, and the knowledge is just a fingertip away. I… I…"

Now it was his sister's turn to smile. She pressed her fingertip to his lips and whispered softly. It's all right, Luke… I understand…"


	2. Chapter 2

Luke arrived near Coronet under the cover of darkness, which suited his mood perfectly. He was tired, and out of sorts, and his although his dreams (and the pain) of… her – of Aubé – had faded, the fog that surrounded his mind had actually _thickened_ here. Something, or more to the point, _someone _was hiding her from him and he would be damned to the seven Hells of this planet if he didn't find out whom, and more importantly, _why._

Disembarking the freighter that had been half-hazardly converted into a passenger liner, he joined the small throng of fellow travelers who spilled out of the landing bay and into the streets of Cornet. Wearing a simple tunic and wrapped in a dark cloak, he felt perhaps a little out of place in a city full of revelers. Although news from Corellia seemed to rarely reach beyond the Outer Rim, it was apparent that the city was in a celebratory mood. Cries of 'Good Health!' and 'By the Gods, it's over!' greeted his ears. And he paused momentarily to find his center.

Beneath the initial good cheer, he could feel an undercurrent of fear, as if something terrible had happened. Sadness and a sense of loss permeated the air, despite the celebratory atmosphere. The sensations became overwhelming, and he began to walk forward again, purposefully, although he only had a vague idea where he was going. 'Nails's' father had held some position of importance, and the Ambassador's offices seemed as good a place as any to start. He would find lodging for the night, and then, in the morning…

A bright light seemed to pierce his very soul, cutting through the mists of his mind and heart. It was _her… _His lips tried to form the words to call her name but suddenly, he felt a tingling warmth on the back of his neck that rapidly spread through his body, and he was on the ground in darkness before he could even reach his lightsaber.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing that greeted his senses was the warm familiar smell of sweet caf, and gentle hands touching his face.

_Bé?_ Luke thought idly, and quickly dismissed it. These hands, though soft, were decidedly masculine_. _He made a halfhearted attempt to open his eyes, but found he couldn't. His mouth seemed to be full of cotton, and his body hurt, but he felt warm and more importantly safe. Wherever he was, he was among friends, that much he was sure of. At least for the moment.

As if hearing his very thoughts, a voice that he knew belonged to the hands spoke up softly.

"The Minister will come soon," came a murmured assurance. "You will awaken more fully, but do not fear. You were found on the streets, unconscious and you were brought here. It is a safe place, with good people. You must drink the water first, and only the water…"

_Who…?_

"I am a friend, and I am a Healer," the voice replied as Luke once again struggled to open his eyes. Finally, the blurry outline of a young man came into his view, dressed in light blue robes. Long blond hair pulled back into a plait fell over his shoulder, and air of gentle concern surrounded him. He touched a spot on Luke's jaw that was painful enough to shock him fully awake, and he jolted forward.

"What the…?" Luke cried out, spilling the glass of water the young Healer held out for him. "Who are you? How did I get here? Where _is_ here?"

"I am called Toa," the young man replied with a slight bow, his voice as calm and measured as before. "You must drink the water first, it will help cleanse your system. Drink the full liter before you eat or drink any other. It will help…" and with those cryptic words, he was gone.

Pouring more water into the glass, Luke took stock of his surroundings. He was in a well appointed office, far above the city streets, and his chair was comfortable. A platter of simple delicacies had been placed on one table along with the silex of caf, and the water that had been proffered. On the desk, along with a pair of reading lenses, was his lightsaber.

Gingerly, he stood and reached for his lightsaber, and looked around. Who ever had bought him here had obviously not seen him as a threat, and as he clipped his weapon to his belt, he took in his surroundings with a more observant eye. The room had an air of being both a place of business and a sanctuary. Broad windows offered a commanding view of the city, but more so the vast Corellian Sea beyond. Planted flowers, not cut, occupied many of the corners, but for all of that, shelves seemed to have mysteriously open spaces, as if their occupants had been removed quickly, and without forethought. No declarations of glory, just living flowers and those oddly empty spaces.

He turned his attention to the view outside, and to the horizon of the great sea where the reds and pinks of early daylight gave way to the glorious light of the morning.

_I know you're out there, Bé, _Luke thought to himself. _I'll pay my respects to the Minister, and thank him for his hospitality and then…_

"That won't be necessary, Young Master Skywalker," a voice, familiar yet different, interrupted his thoughts from the doorway. "I'm afraid she's not here…"


	4. Chapter 4

Luke resisted the urge to whip around, light saber drawn. Suddenly, he knew the source of the cloudiness of his senses, and understood that any attack would not only be futile (for the man standing behind him was a Jedi Master in his own right) but if anything, would be detrimental to his cause. Instead, he continued to stare out across the horizon and let the words fall from his lips.

"Master Canaille," he said quietly. "Why?"

"_Minister Canaille, _if you would, Master Skywalker," came the reply. "I gave up that life long before you were born…"

At last Luke turned to face the former Jedi, and he was unable to mask his shock. In the few short years since he had last seen Aubé's father, he had aged at least twenty. His hair, once dark and full was now considerably thinner (as was his face) and a steel grey. His eyes, however, so startlingly like Aubé's, were still as dark and as intense as ever. He was dressed in the smart dark shirt and trousers, and dress robes of his office, but his face looked tired and care-worn. He drew up a chair behind the desk, and sat, his fingers tented beneath his lips all the while watching Luke intently. Expectantly.

"Please," Luke began quietly. "It's just Luke…" _Let us speak, just man to man, not Jedi Master to Jedi Master, nor Minister to supplicant…_

A ghost of a smile touched Schurke's lips, and he nodded slightly. "All right, _Luke,_" he replied. "But I'm afraid your… quest… has been in vain. My daughter isn't here."

Luke struggled to suppress the anger and impatience that had plagued him as a young man. _What are you hiding, Master Canaille?_ He thought, lapsing into the honorarium. _And more importantly, why?_

The air in the room seemed to thicken, but Schurke's expression remained carefully neutral. "She is safe, and well," Schurke replied evenly. "Is that not enough?"

_NO! _Luke wanted to blurt out, but he knew such an outburst would get him no-where. He was walking though a Sullustian minefield without a guide. He would have to tread carefully.

"I love her…" he said at last. "And I've had dreams… visions… of pain and loss…"

Another nod. "As did your father…" Now Schurke's face darkened. "It destroyed him, you know that?"

Are you trying to say that _love_ created Darth Vader?" Luke asked, a little more hotly than he intended. "That _love – _the very thing that _saved_ him – caused the downfall of an entire Galaxy? I can't believe I'm hearing this from you of all people!"

Schurke raised his hands in supplication. "No…" he replied gently. "But love comes in many forms, it can hurt as much as it can heal…"

Luke fell silent for a moment, realization dawning in his heart. "Are you saying there's someone else?"

Unnoticed by Luke, Schurke suppressed a chuckle, almost as if he were taking delight in Luke's pain.

"Does she love this person?" Luke asked in a choked whisper. "Really love them?"

Schurke rose, and crossed over to Luke, and placed his hand on his shoulder. His eyes sparkled with delight. "More than anyone in the Galaxy, I'm sure…"

"For how long?" Luke sighed, slowly regaining control of himself. "Is she happy?"

Schurke's smile became bittersweet. "From the very first, I think… No, I know… and yes, as much as she can be." Then with unexpected tenderness, Schurke raised Luke's chin to meet his own eyes. "She will always love you, Luke, and you are no stranger to love yourself…"

Luke thinned his lips. "Word gets around, huh?" he sighed. "I guess I should have known…"

Now Schurke's laugh became heartier, genuine. "Of course! Even out here in the darkest corner of the Galaxy, the holo-tabloids sell so very well…" His expression became more solemn again. "I'm so sorry…"

Now it was Luke's turn to offer a sad smile. "Thanks," he said wanly. "I guess I've taken up enough of your time…" He turned to gather his things, but once again, Schurke put his hand on his arm.

"Wait…" he said. "You know that the Holos aren't the only word that we get around here. There has been word… just rumors really… that there is a small community of Force users on Illum… "

For a long time after Luke had left, Schurke had spent a long time sitting in the very chair that Toa and a few members of Corsec had unceremoniously dumped the young Jedi Master into. In one hand he held a glass of Naboo wine, the other one of the many holos that had been quickly stuffed out of sight before Luke had regained consciousness.

If the young man had headed the Healer's advice, he would feel no more ill effects from the stunning drug that he had been hit with. For all of his gentle demeanor, Toa could be a deadly accurate shot. As for the bruised jaw, that had probably been an added gift from Kay'leb, who though far younger than his sister, was fiercely protective of her.

_Someday, you'll understand, children. _He thought to himself. _How love comes in many forms, and causes you to do at the time what may seem to be many terrible things…_

In the holo, taken only a few weeks ago, his daughter Aubé stood, holding the love of her life, a giggly, squirmy little girl who had recently celebrated her fourth life day. Although the holo was monotone, you could still see how much the little girl resembled her mother. The determination of her chin, the upturned nose were all Aubé, _but oh_, _those Skywalker eyes…_


End file.
